To put my clothes away
Said the old woman, jumping
Feet together on her suitcase
The suppleness of bees
And with a determined step
Toward Saint-Lazare station
While we pretended
She walked off cheerfully
With two or three stops
It'll take me fifteen minutes
The home is in the suburbs
They say it's a castle
Where the old play Scrabble
I only like westerns
With loads of gunshots
I'd happily tell you about it
Leave me, I've got things to do
She pulled out twenty bottles
She went down to the lounge
Where old men and women
Were playing Ludo
While scratching their ears
Good evening, ladies and gents
Would one of you happen to have
Her third glass of wine
While the old folks
Sang in four-part harmony
The country's nursing homes
Who at an old man's bedside
Was wearing himself out praying
If he doesn't breathe anymore
He still has a h*rd-on though
A little w*nk
Will get him back on his feet
Like a crank turn
On an old Juvaquatre
Fell with arms spread
All the old folks blared
'Cause you didn't know how
Back when we still had
Any means will do
Who shoved her into the ghetto
Who invented that phrase
From the height of my disdain
And while pouring herself
She gave the finger
The suppleness of bees